FFVII Child
by Blue-Eyed Chocobo
Summary: My name is Zack Sephiroth Cloud Reno Crescent...and I was unfortunately born to FFVII fanatical parents. This is my story.


**A/N:** This is the reason why I should never have children XD. I'm not sure if I want to expand on this and write more in-depth, day to day stuff, but for now, I'll leave it as a one shot.

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My mom…no, Mother, as she would only allow me to address her, was always the more strict (and by that I mean insane) of my parents, but my dad wasn't exactly normal either. By any means, no…

When I was really little, just a baby, I remember my baths. They were nice and calm, yes, but I wasn't washed in normal water or even a bubble baths. Instead, I distinctly remember the water being greenish blue. I still have the rubber chocobo that I played with. And when it came time for bed, I remember being dressed in dark blue pajamas. They weren't your average fleece or flannel with a cartoon teddy bear's face on it, no. My pajamas was the SOLDIER uniform, complete with soft cloth pauldrons. Every night, I would fall asleep with my moogle plush doll next to me and One Winged Angel playing in the background. A normal baby would have been afraid to wake up in the morning if they opened their eyes to see (a poster of) Sephiroth looking down on them...and smirking…but, from the beginning, I knew I was never normal.

Growing up, there was no Tooth Fairy, no Easter Bunny, no Santa Clause. Every December 25th, it was Jenova that came from beyond distant stars and delivered "Gifts of the Goddess". We'd gather around the fireplace and read verses from Loveless and sing The Promised Land. And while everyone else decorated their houses with lights and had Christmas trees, we had a curved birch tree in our living room and we would paint apples blue to hang on the bare branches.

I was told that when I couldn't sleep, all I had to do was close my eyes and listen really carefully to the cries of the Planet. Of course, that never worked, but I was young and believed everything my parents told me, including that the fourth coming of Sephiroth would happen soon and we all need to prepare for him. Every night before bed, I was forced to recite the Jenova's Witnesses prayer. I had no idea what I was saying back then, and I still don't understand it now.

I was also told that I shouldn't do anything bad (or at least, keep it to a minimum) or the Tonberry will get me. A small reptile with a knife was scarier than the boogieman, after all.

When I first learnt how to ride a bike, I was presented with a green bike called "Fenrir". I didn't wear a bicycle helmet. Instead, I wore a bulky metal helmet with three red lights in the front. My parents said it would be useful for when I was riding at night.

And even when it was blistering hot outside, Mother would always tell me to put on my jacket whenever I went out. It was a puffy, well-insulated coat made for harsh winters. When I asked her why, she'd say that the Phoenix Down it was stuffed with would make sure that I wouldn't fall victim to an attack from an army of gunmen.

Every time we'd go on roadtrips, no matter how short, my dad would always have the Highwind song playing in the car.

One day, I came home from school, beaten and bruised because I had gotten in a fight with a bully. My dad sat me down, gave me a Potion with Zack Fair's face on the can (we always have a stockpile of Potions and Ethers in our fridge), and said to me, "It's OK, son. What's important is to keep your chin up. Protect your pride and honour. You are a SOLDIER. Never forget that."

Most dads would take their sons out in the backyard to toss around a baseball or something. What did my dad do? He taught me how to swordfight. Using replica FF7 swords. After I got beaten up, he wouldn't leave me alone unless he knew I could protect myself. The Masamune was two and a half times my height when my dad first attempted to make me hold it. Luckily (yes, I considered myself lucky then), Mother stepped in before my dad let go of my little hands holding the gigantic sword. She smiled, patted me on my head, and said, "You're still in your larva form, aren't you?" and gave me the Souba instead.

When I, as a child, asked if I could drink coffee, my dad yelled at me, saying something about it being too high in Mako and to shut up and drink my, quote, "goddamn tea". He was driving me to school at the time. I wasn't holding any tea.

When I finally got my own dog, I couldn't pick it or choose its name. My parents got a white Labrador, dyed its fur red with food colouring, put jewelry and a feather on it and called it Seto. A few years later, he sired puppies but died soon after. We have a statue of him at the top of the stairs where the son of my first dog, dressed the same way, is made to sleep next to.

I wasn't allowed to have one or two friends over. I had to have at least twenty people over, citing it to be a Reunion. And when I did, just that one time, Mother tried to convert everyone to Jenova's Witnesses, saying that everyone will die eventually and will all become one with the "Great Lord Sephiroth". No one dared to drink the punch.

When I got in trouble, Mother would usually act how other moms would- taking away TV, toys, and other privileges. What other moms wouldn't do, however, was tell their sons that they couldn't do anything at all unless they defeated Sephiroth in the final battle of the FF7 remake. And I can honestly say without hesitation that I was scared stiff. Sephiroth is terrifying if not restrained by turn-based attacks, and when you're forced to fight him with one low-level character (in incredibly realistic graphics), he's even scarier. I dreaded the words, "No food for you until you prove your strength to Sephiroth!".

I'd learn my lesson every time I had to face Sephiroth as a child- do not, under any circumstances, anger Mother.

When we did a family tree project in school, I found out that my Grandfather Vincent (Mother's dad) had the ability to float. My parents still insist that the name Crescent had been in our family for generations, and that we are the descendants of an ancient race of people who were chosen to inherit the planet.

Despite the obvious origins of my name, I am incredibly thankful that my parents chose to use a normal sounding name as my first, but that was most likely because I have black hair. So, for the first few years of my life, they styled my hair into a mass of spikes so that I couldn't wear a hat. When I was old enough to do my own hair, I still tend to spike it up a bit, just out of habit, but not to that extreme.

When I got into the rebellious stages of my teens, I used to bleach my hair then dye it blue. The first time I came home from a friend's house with blue hair instead of black, my parents flipped out on me. They made it clear that they would not tolerate it. But when I yelled back at them about stifling my individuality, they said that it wasn't the fact that I dyed my hair- it was the choice of colour. I was only allowed to dye my hair either blond, red, or silver. Nothing else. Not even a mixture of the three. I wasn't allowed to cut my hair short either.

One time, I had gotten into an argument with my parents because I had bought a yellow truck as my first car. It was cheap because it was old, but it could still move. I was really proud of it because I had bought it with my own money, but my parents wouldn't allow me to drive it. The argument resulted in me storming out of the kitchen, going to my room, and slamming the door. From the bottom of the stairs, Mother yelled, "You're lucky I won't summon Meteor on you, young man!"

When they found cigarettes in my room, they sat me down really solemnly and I thought I would be in trouble, like normal kids would be. Instead, my dad looked me in the eyes and said to me "Son, we are so happy that you've found your path in life, so we've enrolled you in pilot school."

One day, my parents asked me if I had a girlfriend. When I told them no, they said they found the perfect one for me. She works in a small flower shop in a rough side of downtown. I've met her once and my parents are already planning our wedding, saying that one date is enough.

Right now, I am in the middle of moving out. I still have some stuff over at my parents' house but most of my stuff is in my apartment. When I first told them I was moving out, Mother said, with a straight face, that I was not to join the army without telling her first, and to stay away from scientists.

Needless to say, I won't be joining the army any time soon. Thanks to my dad, I had secured a pretty good job at an electric company, where black suits (even for women) are the standard uniform. I don't know which is scarier- the fact that I would never be able to run from the FF7 influence in my life, or the fact that I'm beginning to live my life by it even though my parents don't have control over me anymore. Well, either way, I just hope I don't wind up the same way my namesake did.

Next week, a couple of my co-workers and I are going to fix a turbine located in the nearby mountains. The cosmos hates me, doesn't it?


End file.
